“But you know who did take him.” Tiki put her hands on her hips. “Tell me now.”
Sean’s gaze flicked over to Tiki then returned to his examination of the horse. He bent and ran his hands down one of the back legs, gently feeling the tendons while the horse stood patiently.
“I’ll tell William.”
Sean straightened and cocked his head at her. “Are you threatening me?”
“Call it what you will, but I want an answer.” Tiki fought the urge to stamp her foot. “Was it Larkin?”
Sean sighed. He walked back toward Tiki and stopped in front of her. “It wasn’t Larkin specifically who took him, but she was behind it. She hired some fey to bring him over. She wanted to get your attention for some reason.” His face darkened.
“What?” Tiki searched his eyes. “There’s more, isn’t there? Tell me.”
Sean shook his head, a guarded expression on his face. “I don’t know.” He lifted his hand and smoothed a piece of windblown hair from her face. When his fingers touched her skin they lingered, then he dropped his hand suddenly. “It’s one of the many things I’m trying to understand.”
With a sudden burst of insight, Tiki said, “What are you? A spy in both courts?”
Something flickered in his eyes, then he blinked and his face revealed nothing. “What I am doesn’t matter. The truth is, if we don’t oust Donegal from the Seelie throne by Beltane, there will only be one court left and we will all serve one despicable king.”
May First was less than two weeks away. Tiki debated about telling him what Larkin had said of the Stone of Tara but decided against it. Her life had become a chess match against players far more experienced at the game than she. Until she knew who she could trust, and what was and wasn’t the truth, she’d keep as many secrets as she could.
With a snort of warm air, Aeveen pushed her head between them, nuzzling Sean, searching for a treat. In response, the faerie grabbed a chunk of mane and effortlessly swung onto the back of the great horse. He held his hand out to Tiki. “Shall we return to London?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Their passage through the gate from the Otherworld back to London had been almost undetectable. First, there’d been a shimmering in the air before them, reminding Tiki of a heat-induced summertime mirage. As they drew close to the wavy light, a cool breeze had caressed her face and blown her hair back, as if they’d passed through an open door. Then they’d galloped across fields as familiar as the meadow in which Sean had called Aeveen.
“How do you know your way from one side to the other?” Tiki had asked.
“It’s simple,” Sean said over his shoulder. “You’re taught how to find the gate.”
Tiki held tight to his waist as they rode. “And you taught Rieker?”
“He was keen to learn.”
IT WAS NIGHT by the time they reached Grosvenor Square.
“We’re back,” Tiki whispered, looking around in wonder. The light of the moon was shrouded by a thick fog. Down the road a bell clanged as a carriage made its way along the cobblestone street. The clip-clop of the horse’s hooves sounded oddly distorted as they kept time in a measured pace.
Sean slid off the horse, and reached up to help Tiki down. The smell of clover filled the air and a sudden spark burned in his eyes “Your new glamour—or is it your old glamour?—becomes you.”
Tiki looked down to see that her glamour had melted away upon her return to London, just as Larkin had promised. Tiki turned toward the light glowing in the window of Number Six. “I’m home,” she whispered.
Sean raised a scarred eyebrow. Somehow his horrible glamour didn’t look so frightening anymore. “Are you sure about that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tiki asked.
He drew a long finger down the side of her face, tracing the contours as if memorizing them. “Until we meet again, Tiki,” he said softly.
Tiki felt a strange tug in her chest, almost as if she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close. “Th…Thank you for bringing me back.”
His finger stopped under her chin. Tiki’s lips parted to draw a breath as he leaned close. But instead of kissing her, the warmth of his lips brushed the tender skin of her ear.
“You’ve already thanked me once. Don’t make yourself so beholden to me that I’m tempted to seek my payment.” His voice was a whisper. “Because you are very tempting.”
He took a step back and was magically sitting on Aeveen’s back. His face was a mask.
“Be safe.” Without another word he turned the horse’s head and kicked the great beast into a canter. Tiki blinked and he’d disappeared into the fog.
She stared at the spot where he’d been just moments before. So many emotions churned through her it was hard to know where one started and the other stopped. Tiki turned toward the townhome and looked longingly at the lighted windows. She was home and her family waited for her.
She bounded through the unlocked front door and hurried upstairs to the drawing room where everyone would be this time of night. She rounded the corner and stopped, a rush of love filling her. Fiona sat with her head bowed over her fancywork. Shamus was asleep in a chair before the fire, his head back and mouth open. Toots and Clara were lying on the floor playing a game of checkers. The only person missing was Rieker.
Fiona lifted her head. “Tiki!” she cried and jumped from her chair, startling Shamus awake. Toots and Clara both scrambled to their feet and hurried to throw their arms around her.
“Where have you been?” Toots hollered.
“We’ve been worried sick!” Fiona cried. “We had to tell Mrs. B. that you’d gone to help with your dying aunt.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were leaving?” Clara asked in her high voice.
Tiki wrapped her arms around the lot of them, biting her lip to stop her tears from falling.
“Welcome back, Teek.” Shamus asked in his slow, steady voice. “Is Rieker with you?”
Tiki stepped forward so she could see Shamus. “Rieker’s not here?”
Shamus shook his head. His face looked drawn and there were dark circles below his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. “He disappeared at the same time you did.”
Tiki sagged. “He never came back?”
“Where were you, Teek?” Fiona asked in a soft voice, filled with worry.
Tiki turned to her. “How long have I been gone?” Time didn’t pass the same in the Otherworld. Mere hours passed in Faerie while days crept by in London.
“This is the sixth day.”
Panic started building in Tiki’s chest. Rieker hadn’t returned. Donegal must have captured him. He might be lying injured in a prison cell now….or he might be—
She couldn’t allow herself to finish the thought.
“Don’ you worry about a thing, Dearie,” Mrs. Bosworth said later when Tiki asked if she’d heard from Rieker. “That young man can disappear for weeks at a time—not a word.” She’d patted Tiki on the shoulder with her work-worn hand. “But he always comes back.” Mrs. B. had shifted the basket of vegetables she was carrying to the other hip as she walked toward the doorway to the kitchen. “Eventually.”
MANY HOURS LATER, Toots and Clara had gone to bed and Tiki, Shamus and Fiona returned to the upstairs drawing room. They spoke in hushed tones, discussing Rieker’s disappearance.
“Why would you ever trust Larkin in the first place?” Fiona exclaimed again, as they sat before the fire. She stabbed at the fancywork she was embroidering on a pillowcase. “Of course she betrayed Rieker, that was probably her plan all along.”
Tiki picked at the seam of her skirt. She’d told them of Larkin applying glamours and taking them to the Otherworld. She’d told them of Sean returning her to London, but she hadn’t told them that Sean was Dain. Even though Shamus and Fiona were family who she trusted beyond any others, she’d promised Dain she wouldn’t tell, and she wouldn’t break her vow. She couldn’t bring herself to tell them Rieker’s se
cret either—that he’d been traveling to the Otherworld with Sean. Not until she had a chance to talk to him for herself. If she ever got that chance again.
“It’s obvious now.” Tiki nodded miserably. “But when Leo was attacked, it seemed that Larkin was telling the truth about Donegal.
“Probably Larkin’s doing,” Fiona snarled.
“Fi—” Shamus said in a warning tone.
“Sh…she made it sound so simple.” Tiki stammered. “She seemed so sure. I just had to touch a stone and—”
Fiona lifted her head. “And what?”
Shamus, who had been staring at the flames in the fire, raised his head to look at Tiki too, his long, straight white-blond hair shifting with his movement. He waited silently for her to continue.
Tiki hesitated.
“Does this have to do with your birthmark, Tiki?” Shamus asked.
Tiki turned to him in relief. Though quiet, Shamus had a keen eye and quick mind. He saw what many others missed. “Yes.” She jerked her head up and down. “Larkin said I could help Leo and protect Rieker and all of you…” her voice died off.
“I don’t understand how touching a bloody piece of rock could help anybody,” Fiona said, going back to work on her embroidery. “Did you even find the stupid stone?”
“Yes,” Tiki nodded, eyes downcast.
Fiona jerked her head up again. “And?” She pushed Tiki’s knee with her hand. “Did you touch it?”
Tiki nodded, biting her lip to hold back the hot tears that threatened to fall.
“Well, go on—what happened?”
“Nothing,” Tiki whispered.
IT WAS AFTER midnight when Fiona and Shamus went up to their bedrooms. Tiki stayed behind in the cozy drawing room.
“I’m just not ready to sleep yet,” she said. “I’ll come up soon.” She couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes in a comfortable bed, when Rieker was lost in the Otherworld.
She paced back and forth across the room, trying to think of some way to help. Could she return to the Wychwood and find him? But even as she had the thought, she knew it was a ridiculous idea. The entrance to the Wood was at least a day’s ride and she wouldn’t have a chance alone in that fey-infested forest, even if she could find it again. There had to be a better way.
“Larkin.” She said the name out loud and waited. “Larkin!” she called louder this time. Before it seemed that anytime they’d even mentioned the faerie’s name she’d appeared. Now, when Tiki wanted to see her, would she come? Tiki waited, but there was only the tick of the clock.
Tiki walked to the big paned window that looked out to the street and across to the tree-shrouded square. The wind had picked up again and blown the fog away. Tree branches swayed and moved behind the muted glow of the lamp light like dark puppets taking part in some invisible dance. Was the turbulent weather a sign of what was happening in the Otherworld? A dreadful thought crept in before she could stop it. She’d been gone six days. Was Rieker still alive? A terrible pressure filled her heart and her head, making her eyes burn, at the thought of never seeing him again.
THE CLOCK HAD just tolled three a.m. when Tiki stood at the window again, imagining the Palace of Mirrors, the crowd of faeries, the music—anything but the idea that Rieker might not be coming back. She could see the flickering torches, the towering black and gold columns with the magical mirrors lining the walls between; The sense that everything glittered with dark magic—a disturbing opulence hiding a world falling apart.
What did Larkin want from them? Had she saved Rieker that night four years ago, only to sacrifice him now for the bigger prize of winning the Seelie throne? Had they plotted together? Was Rieker gone forever? Did she need to just walk away and worry about her own life?
Tiki clenched her fists, fighting the urge to bang them against the glass window at her helplessness. It was impossible to know the truth.
THE PINK LIGHT of dawn was sifting through the window when Tiki awoke. She was sitting in a chair before the fireplace, her head propped on her bent arm. The fire had turned to grey ashes and a chill hung in the air.
She sat up, confused, trying to sort reality from her dreams. In a rush, it all came back, like being drenched with ice water—Rieker was missing. Sadness pressed in on her again, and she shivered as she drew up the blanket that had sagged around her shoulders. She stepped to the window and peered out into the shifting colors of morning, hoping Rieker would magically appear in the square.
The dawn chorus had started, the bird song bright and sharp, even though the sun wasn’t fully above the horizon yet. It wouldn’t be long before Mrs. Bosworth would be up, working in the kitchen, preparing meals for another day. Geoffrey would be tending to the horses and Mr. Bosworth would be puttering around the house, fixing things, tidying others. Juliette would be making beds and the machinery of Rieker’s life would be running smoothly again. Only he wasn’t here to enjoy it.
The household staff were so used to Rieker disappearing they didn’t give a second thought when he didn’t come home now. Didn’t question whether he was safe or not. Tiki was truly the only person in this world who knew Rieker’s secrets. A terrible tug pulled at her heart. If she didn’t take care of him, who would?
Chapter Thirty
For the first time since Rieker had asked them to stay at his townhome four months ago, Tiki planned to dress in the ragged garments she’d lived in while hiding in the abandoned clockmaker’s shop in Charing Cross.
“You’re not going without me,” Fiona declared, when Tiki told her what she intended to do. “We’ve got to dress like we used to, Fi,” Tiki said “We’ve got to be invisible to be able to go all the places Rieker goes. We have to find someone who might know Rieker; something to help us find him.” Tiki bit her lip, thinking. “Do you remember him telling us about that old man he’d helped? The one who was dying?”
Fiona scrunched her nose as she followed Tiki upstairs to her room. “The faerie?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Kieran was his name. Rieker told me he thought he’d found that old man but later figured out that Kieran had purposely put himself in Rieker’s path.”
Fiona stood next to Tiki, watching as she dug through the clothes in the drawer. “Why?”
“He told Rieker he was there to warn him. I remember Rieker’s exact words: ‘Kieran came to warn me about Donegal and his dark court. Of Larkin. Of the past. Of the future.’” Tiki sat back on her heels as she pulled out a rumbled, oversized jacket. “Sean found Rieker too. Maybe there’s someone else out there, like Kieran or Sean, who knows about the Otherworld—who can point us in the right direction.”
“Warn him of the past and the future? How is that possible?”
Tiki set the jacket down and began digging through the clothes in the drawer again. “I think that was the point. Kieran knew what had happened in the past, along with Rieker’s link to the Other-world and probably knew that it wasn’t over yet—that Donegal and Larkin would pursue him until they got what they wanted.” Tiki pulled a stained pair of ragged pants from the drawer. “Ugh. Even washing didn’t get these clean.” She glanced over at Fiona. “Why don’t you go get your clothes from your room?”
Fiona’s nose turned up in distaste. “I threw those old rags away. What will I wear?”
Tiki rummaged through the bottom drawer again. “Here.” She tossed an old jacket towards Fiona. “You can wear that.” She dug further. “Here’s an old pair of trousers you can roll up. Put a scarf over your hair and wear a cap on top of that.”
After they placed the old garments in a bag, they told Mrs. B. they were going shopping and hurried out the back door. Geoffrey was gone and they changed in one of the empty stalls in the coach house.
Tiki braided her long hair and tucked it inside her jacket. The worn boots she pulled on over her socks were more comfortable than the prim heels that hugged her feet, and she wiggled her toes in delight. She pulled a cap low on her forehead, the brim shadowing her face.
S
he faced Fiona. “How do I look?”
“Cor, Teek,” Fiona smiled. “It’s like findin’ an old friend.”
Tiki laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”
They scooted out the back door and ran toward Grosvenor Street. From there they walked the distance to Regent Street, busy with omnibuses and carriages, wagons pulled by tired horses. Pedestrians filled the sidewalks and no one paid any attention to two more scruffy boys scrambling through traffic.
“That one’s big enough for both of us,” Tiki said, pointing to a large carriage headed in their direction. “Ready, one, two, three…” They jumped on the boot as the carriage went by. Once they were settled on the small luggage platform Tiki leaned over and whispered to Fiona. “Here’s to being invisible.”
THE CARRIAGE TOOK them through Piccadilly Circus where it pulled to a stop. Tiki and Fiona hopped off before the driver knew they’d hitched a ride. Piccadilly was bustling with people. Wheels clacked across the cobblestones in time with the cadence of the horse’s hooves. Costermongers pushed their carts down the street, crying out goods for sale. A man playing a hurdy-gurdy stood on a nearby corner, his rumpled stove-pipe hat upside down on the street, collecting coins. Children shouted, offering to sweep the street, carry packages, or fetch a cab for the upper class, some doing cartwheels in the hopes of earning a ha’penny or two.
“Where should we look?” Fiona asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve without a second thought.
“Let’s walk up Shaftsbury to the Dials,” Tiki said. “Rieker mentioned he’d spent time there. Maybe someone there will know something.” The walk to Seven Dials, a small circular junction of seven streets, took less than fifteen minutes. As they left the hustle and bustle of Piccadilly, the buildings and atmosphere changed to worn and dark buildings where the down-on-their-luck, scrabbled to survive.
Tiki recognized the look on the faces of the children who ran in the street before them. It was a look of constant hunger. The same look had been on her and Fiona’s faces just a few months ago. It didn’t take long for the bits of bread and fruit she’d shoved in her pockets to give away were gone.
The Torn Wing Page 15
